


Sooner

by NiceHatGeorgia



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s08e18 Threads, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-09-30 14:39:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10165193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiceHatGeorgia/pseuds/NiceHatGeorgia
Summary: Some bonus scenes for "Threads," because a lot went on in and around that episode that we just didn't get to see.





	1. Chapter 1

Almost immediately after Sam ran, literally ran, out of his backyard, Jack’s cell phone rang too. 

“O’Neill,” he answered, without checking the caller ID. He knew who was calling, and he knew why. 

Walter blustered through a report on Jacob Carter, his collapse at the base just minutes before and his current condition in the infirmary. “I’ve already contacted Colonel Carter,” Walter finished. “I just thought you’d want to know.” Jack wondered absently what Walter would think if he knew that Carter had been standing in his backyard when the call had come for her, that she’d been just about to say… something… when she’d been interrupted, first by his new CIA girlfriend, and then by this phone call.

“Alright,” Jack said. “Thank you, Sergeant.” He snapped his phone shut and stared at it for a moment, suppressing a sigh. Eventually he looked up and was almost surprised to see Kerry standing there. Of course she was standing there. She had come over for a cook out. He’d invited her yesterday. It had seemed like such an innocuous idea at the time. He looked back down at his phone searchingly. If the last few minutes had been this disorienting for him, he could only imagine how Sam was feeling. 

“Jacob Carter,” he managed, by way of explanation, still studying his phone. 

“The Tok’ra,” Kerry supplied. “Colonel Carter’s father.”

“Yeah.” Jack said, grateful he didn’t have to come up with anything more eloquent at the moment. He liked Kerry, he really did. Her ability to fill in the blanks and connect the dots when needed was one of the things he liked about her. 

“Look, I really should get back to the mountain,” he said. It made sense, right? He wasn’t ditching Kerry to chase after Sam. He was simply rescheduling with Kerry because Earth’s most important liaison to one of Earth’s most tenuous allies was apparently at death’s door, and as base commander, he should be there. No, not ditching Kerry. Certainly not chasing after Sam. And this definitely had nothing at all to do with whatever Carter had come to talk to him about.

“Sure,” she said, “of course.” 

Jack waved his beer around in another failed attempt at appearing casual, though this time he at least managed not to spill it everywhere. “You’re welcome to stay and… enjoy this fine day… in my backyard.” He gave her his best attempt at a smile, as if to confirm that he meant it. 

The smile she gave him in return was tight. “Thanks, but if you’re leaving, I think I will too.”

“It’s no problem,” he shrugged, turning back to the grill. “I don’t usually lock my doors anyway.”

He felt Kerry watching him as he collected the charred meat from the grill and turned off the gas. At least he had the wherewithal to remember that. It certainly would’ve have helped him believe he was not chasing after Sam if he’d managed to start a small fire in his backyard because he forgot the very basic step of turning off the grill. Because he wasn’t chasing her, he was calmly heading back to the base. He picked up the plates and turned to the house, to see Kerry, still watching him, her eyes slightly narrowed in thought.

“Jack, is there something going on here that I should know about?” It was another one of the things he liked about her, really, her direct approach. Everything was very straightforward with her. It was casual, it was uncomplicated, and he never had to wonder what was on her mind. It was how he usually liked to operate. Usually. 

“Well I don’t really know any more than you do,” he said, looking at the plate of meat in his hands and trying to convince himself he wasn’t being an evasive asshole. “I don’t think anyone knew Jacob was sick and right now they’re just -“ 

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Kerry sighed and considered him for a beat longer. She didn’t push. Yet another thing he really did like about her. Then she turned and picked up the bowl she’d brought out in the hand not holding her beer and carried both items back into the house. She spent a couple minutes helping Jack clean up the kitchen, and then made her way to the door, leaving her beer open and otherwise untouched on the counter. 

“I’m sorry about this,” Jack said as he held the door for her, not totally sure what he was apologizing for. He was even less sure what she thought he was apologizing for. “We’ll reschedule.” 

“Sure,” she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. He did his best not to flinch, but suddenly it all seemed so strange, so absurd, almost, so far from what he wanted to be happening. She cocked her head a bit to the side and give him a probing look. “I’m not an idiot, Jack. And I didn’t make it this far in the CIA without being good at reading people and figuring out what’s going on.” 

Ok, so now she was pushing a little. Which probably meant this was important to her. But what could he say? I’ve been in love with an officer under my command for years and I’ve done my best to ignore it and she got engaged but just now she came by and it sounded like she was going to say… something… and now her father is apparently very sick and I really wish you’d leave so I didn’t have to factor you into the equation right now because this is all a little too much for me? He didn’t think that, or some variation of that, would go over very well. He really didn’t think he could manage to string all those words together. And besides, it was probably written all over his face. And she was filling in the blanks, like he knew she could. Connecting the dots.

So he said nothing, and neither did she. She just gave him a small, resigned smile, and walked through the open door to her car.

Finally alone, Jack allowed himself a moment to drop his head and run his hands over his face. Then he grabbed his car keys and made his way back to the SGC.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as Jack arrived at the mountain, he found himself making his way to the infirmary without stopping by his office or the control room. If Sam also happened to be in the infirmary, it was of no consequence, he decided. He hadn’t gone back to the mountain for Sam. So maybe he would see her there, and maybe not. It was all the same to him, he told himself. But his pace was faster than usual, and for some reason his heart was pounding in his chest as he rounded the last corner and opened the door to the isolation room, where he couldn’t quite deny the sting of disappointment he felt at finding Jacob alone, resting.

He checked in with the nurse on duty for an update on Jacob’s condition and was more than a little shocked to learn that no intervention was planned, that Selmak was dying, and that Jacob would die with him, likely within the day. Perhaps if he had swung by his office and checked in with, well, anyone, he would’ve gotten the official update from the doctor, but in his preoccupation with Sam, Jack hadn’t really considered this possibility. He had been told that Jacob was gravely ill, of course, but he had assumed there would be some way to save him, some unconventional or even crazy long shot, something they could at least try. But for all the miracles the SGC medical staff had preformed over the years, there was nothing to be done now. So they were doing their best to keep him comfortable, which had never before seemed to Jack like such an absurdly inadequate course of action.

As he absorbed this new reality, Jack couldn’t help but acknowledge his concern for Sam shifting to something deeper. Her father wasn’t just sick, he was dying, and on top of it all, there was nothing she or anyone else could do. That alone had to be driving her absolutely crazy. Never mind her having second thoughts about her upcoming wedding. Never mind whatever she had come to his house to say to him. Damn.

“Has he had any visitors?” Jack asked the nurse, trying to sound simultaneously casual and commanding. Alright, he _was_ just asking about Sam. He didn’t care about anyone else right now, not really. Whatever little game he was playing with himself about his feelings for her needed to stop. She was the only one he cared about, and for the sake of his own sanity, he had to admit that. But only to himself. The nurse sure didn’t need to know. Neither did anyone else.

The nurse nodded dutifully. “Colonel Carter was here a moment ago, but she just left, I think to change.” Jack imagined Sam in the clothes she’d worn to his house, the skirt and that soft-looking sweater. He wondered if that’s what she’d been wearing when Pete showed her the house. He wondered if she’d gone straight from Pete to see him. Jesus, he thought, breaking his decidedly unhelpful train of thought. He forced his attention back to the present moment and away from Sam’s sweater, where it had no business being, certainly not now.

“I’d imagine she’ll be back soon,” the nurse continued, and Jack nodded, making an extra effort to steel his features and appear like the base commander, not like an increasingly disoriented, slightly panicked man at a loss for what to do or say.

“I’m sure there are others who will want to come say their goodbyes,” the nurse was still talking. “I suggest you take your chance while you can.”

As much as he struggled to wrap his mind around the idea of “saying goodbye” in a place where the boundaries between life and death seemed so capricious, Jack knew the nurse was right. Certainly there were others on base who would be stopping in once the word got out. And he knew that the Tok’ra were mobilizing a contingent to come pay their respects too. It was just what Jack needed today, a line-up of Tok’ra parading through his base.

It occurred to him for one brief and horrifying moment that Pete might even make an appearance, to be there for Sam. And here he’d thought a parade of Tok’ra sounded bad.

“He’s not sleeping?” Jack asked, looking hesitantly at the prone figure in the infirmary bed.

“He’s been in and out,” she replied, turning her attention briefly to the monitor displaying Jacob’s vitals. It occurred to Jack to be grateful that it was otherwise a quiet day in the infirmary. With everything else going on - the Replicators, Anubis, Dakara, Daniel missing, the list went on - this relative calm was as unlikely as it was fortunate. “Like I said,” she gave a gentle nod of encouragement, “now is as good a time as any.”

So Jack made his way over to Jacob’s bed, gingerly taking the seat next to him. It wasn’t long before Jacob’s eyes fluttered open, darting around the room. He sighed heavily, as if just remembering where he was and what was happening. His eyes finally settled on Jack.

“Jack,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too Jacob, though I have to say, you’ve looked better.”

Jack’s attempt at a light joke was met with a wry smile. “What can I say, I’ve also looked worse,” Jacob replied. “Though not by much.”

And this was the part of saying goodbye that Jack hated - the part where he actually had to say something. Every bit of the scene felt so contrived and melodramatic, the low lighting, the beeping machines, the powerful man lying helpless in a bed. For all the times he’d been in this position of having to say goodbye, Jack still had no idea how to handle it. What made this even worse was that in Jacob’s case, there was no bullshitting, no chance they might save him, no room for a pep talk. Jack fidgeted in his seat, desperate for some appropriate small talk or joke to impart. But it all just felt so wrong.

“I’m glad you came,” Jacob said, saving Jack from his futile endeavor.

“Oh?” he said, partly curious and mostly grateful to be off the hook for something to say.

“Yeah,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Jack leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands together with his elbows on his knees in what he assumed was the universal signal that he was ready to listen.

Jacob jumped right in. “The last time I was lying in a hospital dying, I made the mistake of telling Sam in no uncertain terms what she ought to do with her life.” His voice was tinged with regret. “She’s a grown woman, and a smart one, smarter than I ever was. I don’t intend to make my death worse for her by saying things that will make her second-guess herself, or worry whether I would have approved of how she’s living her life.”

Jack nodded, resolutely refusing to consider where Jacob might be going with this.

Jacob looked pointedly at Jack. “I have no such qualms about you.”

Jack’s jaw dropped open before he could catch it. He begged his brain to come up with something to say, something sarcastic and maybe just self-deprecating enough to derail the conversation. But he came up empty, and instead stared blankly back at Jacob, his mouth still hanging open.

Jacob sighed. “Jesus, Jack. You can’t honestly tell me that you think this Pete guy is good for her.”

Ok, this he could respond to. “That’s not really my decision to make,” he said, leaning back in his chair and feeling somewhat less panicky. It was a line he had told himself many times over the last several months, and certainly, there was no way that her father, of all people, would disagree. So he was surprised when Jacob’s reply came just as exasperated as his original statement.

“Damn right it’s not. And neither is her decision about you.”

Jack struggled not to let his jaw drop this time, his desperate search for a reply finally turning up an eloquent “what?” It was an improvement over the blank stare, at least.

“Look,” Jacob explained, “just to be clear that we’re both on the same page here, let’s start with the fact that you’re in love with my daughter, that she’s in love with you, and that I’ve been aware of it for at least as long as you have.” He paused, as if giving Jack a chance to jump in and correct him. Or maybe he was just giving Jack a chance to catch up. He certainly felt like he needed it, the way his head had started to spin.

“Obviously I’m not unaware of the reasons why you’ve tried to maintain a professional distance,” he continued. “But this is getting out of hand. There’s more to life than this.” Jack could hear a certain kind of urgency in Jacob’s voice, the kind of urgency that only comes when you know you don’t have much time left to say the things that really need saying. “What do you keep saving the planet for if you can’t be happy together?” He shook his head. “If she wants to choose Pete, fine, let her choose Pete, and let her be happy. It’s her choice. But if she wants to choose you, Jack, let her. Don’t decide for her that it’s bad for her career, or that you’re not good enough, or that she’ll regret it.”

Jack felt his face twitch, his mind spinning even faster as he tried to grasp at Jacob’s words. What was he saying? That Sam was trying to choose him and Jack was stopping her? That this whole Pete thing was his fault? But Sam was the one who started seeing someone else, Sam was the one who was humming in the elevator, Sam was the one who got engaged. She was making her choices and he was respecting that. Jack wanted to say something, anything, to defend to Jacob his actions since Pete came onto the scene, because no, he didn’t think Pete was good for her. The thought of Sam with anyone but him felt so far from good he couldn’t begin to think of a word to describe it.

But his mind continued spinning, and suddenly he was remembering Sam clinging to him, soft and teary, after he’d recovered from a staff blast to the chest on P3X-666. He remembered her coming to his house during that damn Ancient repository incident, how she had tried talking to him, how later on the ship she’d tried again, and he hadn’t let her finish, hadn’t let her say it. He remembered her showing him the ring after Pete asked her to marry him but before she gave him an answer.

And before all that, he remembered her waking up after being stranded on the Prometheus. He had thought that he’d lost her, and that the world was ending, but then there she was, like she’d always been, alive, and smiling at him. He remembered her eyes, so soft and warm and open. He remembered that she’d said his name, Jack, so simple and yet so overwhelmingly charged with meaning. He remembered what he said back to her: “Excuse me?” along with some reminder of their rank.

And with no effort at all, he remembered her standing in his yard not an hour earlier, looking up at him with eyes so scared and so brave. Jack sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, pulling himself back to the present conversation. Had she been trying to choose him? Had he been stopping her? Is that how she saw it? And was it too late now?

Jack willed himself finally to look back at Jacob, and noticed rather abruptly how much all of this was taking out of him. Jack’s own reasons and defenses suddenly seemed flimsy and foolish in light of this dying man’s counsel, and he was struck by an uncharacteristic urge to be open and honest about how he felt.

“I’ve spent the last eight years trying to protect her,” he began slowly, stringing together his first meaningful sentence since this conversation began. “God knows she doesn’t need protecting, and more often than not, she was the one saving us. But it was my job as her CO and as her… as her friend.” He paused for a moment and leaned forward in his chair. “All I want is for her to be happy, but I’m a strategist, and I can’t believe that taking the risk with me would be a good call. The stakes are too high.”

“You’re right,” Jacob replied, a soft smile in his eyes. “The stakes are too high. This is her life we’re talking about. And yours. All I ask is that you be honest with her.”

“That’s all, huh?” Jack quirked an eyebrow, and Jacob smiled openly.

“You wouldn’t say no to a dying man’s wish, would you?” he teased. “Remember, I don’t give a damn if you resent me for the rest of your life.”

At this, Jack smiled too and leaned back in his chair again, feeling strangely lighter.

“I’ve always liked you, Jack,” Jacob said. “Especially once I realized you really weren’t sleeping with my daughter.”

Jack’s jaw dropped open one more time, a small part of him impressed at Jacob’s uncanny ability, even in his current state, to provoke such a reaction. “Well,” he finally managed. “That explains a lot about the first couple times we met.”

Jacob chuckled as Jack stood to go. He figured the Tok’ra would be arriving soon, and he wanted to give Jacob a chance to rest before his next round of visitors.

“Thanks for stopping by,” Jacob said, as if he weren’t on his death bed, as if Jack had simply paid him a visit at his house or his office, as if he would see him again sometime. But Jack knew that this was likely his last chance to talk to Jacob, and most certainly his last chance to do so without an audience. He regarded him solemnly, trying and failing to find the words to capture his own hopes and fears, his gratitude, and his respect.

“We’ll miss you, Jacob,” he said finally.

Jacob nodded and looked at him meaningfully. “Be good to my little girl,” he said.

“Yes sir,” Jack replied without hesitation. One way or another, he always would.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small but important bit of dialogue from the episode makes a cameo here - I'm sure you'll recognize it when you see it!

Sam sat in the observation room, looking down at her father as he spoke in soft tones with the Tok’ra who had arrived a while ago. Jacob was doing less and less of the talking, and while she appreciated that the Tok’ra wanted to pay their respects to him, especially given what a rocky year it had been with the High Council, she wished the doctors would kick them out and let her father rest. He looked so tired. Of course, he’d probably insisted they be allowed to come, she realized, shaking her head to herself.

She had been sitting there for a long time. It had to be the middle of the night by now, maybe even early morning. She had no idea. When she arrived at the base she’d gone straight to the infirmary, still wearing the clothes that she’d had on when Pete showed her the house. It felt like years had passed since she’d stepped out of his car to see what his big surprise was. She’d still been wearing those clothes when she stood in Jack’s back yard, looking up at him and Kerry on the deck. She’d fished her cell phone out of that skirt pocket, thankful for an interruption to Kerry’s awkward invitation to stay for dinner. And she’d worn those clothes sitting in the SGC infirmary as her father told her that he wasn’t just sick, he was dying. God, she was never going to wear that outfit again.

She felt much more comfortable now in her BDUs. She’d feel more comfortable still if she had something to do, something to fidget with, something useful, but there was nothing to do, no way to fix what was happening to her father. There was nothing anyone could do.

So she sat, uncharacteristically still, her mind uncharacteristically empty. Her father’s words bounced around in the empty space, and she either lacked or refused the ability to connect them, to put together what he was saying without saying it. He just wanted to know she was going to be happy. She shouldn’t let rules stand in her way. She could still have everything she wants. Sam had insisted that she was happy, but it was a knee-jerk reaction, and they both knew it. It felt so petty and strange to be dwelling on her personal life while her father was slipping away from her, even if he was the one who brought it up. So she heard what he said, she let his words float harmlessly around in her mind, but she didn’t touch them.

A quiet rustle at the door told Sam that someone had joined her in the observation room. Without turning her head, she knew it was him.

“You been sitting here all night?” Jack asked, though of course he must have known.

“Yeah, I guess,” she said, her gazed still fixed on the room below. “If it’s morning.”

“Oh eight hundred,” he replied.

Sam couldn’t help the stab of embarrassment she felt at how she must look, her face red and puffy from the tears she’d already shed, her eyes drawn with dark circles from the lack of sleep, and dressed in her military garb. Hadn’t she just decided she was more comfortable in these clothes? But nothing felt right right now. Into her head popped an image of Kerry, effortlessly beautiful and so feminine, waltzing onto Jack’s deck in that low-cut pink shirt, eyes sparkling. God, she was jealous, she realized with a flash of frustration. Her father was dying and she was jealous that Jack’s… girlfriend? was prettier than her. When had she gotten so shallow? But the truth was, she’d give almost anything not to know about Kerry right now. She wanted to be able to pretend Kerry didn’t exist, to draw comfort, as she always had, from Jack and from some vague and nebulous hope that maybe…

Jack shifted in the doorway and broke her reverie. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? Something to eat? I’m guessing it’s -”

But Sam cut him off. “I don’t need anything from you,” she said plainly. Well. That came out a little more harshly than she had intended, and he certainly wouldn’t be out of line if he wanted to call her on it. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, not sure whether he could see her face from where he was standing. She was tired, she realized. Some coffee would be nice, actually.

“Sir -“ she began, trying to find a way to recover the military structures that defined them, so overbearing and yet so safe, especially at a time like this.

“Carter.” He stopped her. “Look, about yesterday, at the house -”

Sam suddenly felt indignant, any need for an apology for her disrespect thrown out the window. She did not want to talk about yesterday at the house. And how dare he bring it up. It didn’t matter that they were definitely both thinking about it. Not talking about things was what they did. They left things in the room (she found it maddeningly ironic that they were, in fact, in that room right now). And now, with her father dying, for crying out loud, now he wants to talk. Sam sat up straight in her chair, still refusing to look at him. Maybe a shouting match was just what she needed.

“With all due respect, sir,” she bit out, emphasizing the sir, “I don’t think this is an appropriate time to talk about yesterday at the house.”

She was way out of line now, and she knew it. He could pull rank if he wanted. Maybe he should, and put an end to all of this. Her showing up unannounced at his house was what was inappropriate. A commanding officer dressing down a subordinate for such inappropriate behavior, now that was completely appropriate, never mind what she had gone to his house to say. What she had almost finally said.

“Right,” came Jack’s reply. “Of course.”

Ok, so he wasn’t going to pull rank. Sam heard him shift again in the doorway and she softened somewhat but still wouldn’t look at him.

“No talking,” he said in a gentle tone that didn’t sound very much like a commanding officer. He continued slowly, speaking each word with care. “I just wanted to make sure you know that… that I’m here for you now.”

The earnestness in his voice as he said those last few words made her want to cry, or maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t slept in so long, or maybe it was her father, or maybe it was Pete and her impending marriage and that damn house, or maybe it was some combination of everything. She pushed the tears back down, but consented to turning and looking at him where he stood in the doorway, arms folded loosely across his chest, doing his best to appear completely casual. To anyone else, he might have pulled it off. He looked back at her hesitantly, like he was the one who might be in trouble for agreeing not to talk and then talking anyway.

Sam still wasn’t going to engage the conversation, but she didn’t want to pick a fight anymore either. He must have seen this in her eyes and taken it as an invitation, or at least as the absence of a rejection, and he made his way over to were she was sitting. He sat down next to her, close, so close, and Sam couldn’t help it - Kerry or no Kerry, it was such a comfort to have him by her side.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Actually I’m fine,” she replied. Noting his slightly suspicious look at her automatic reply, she hastily added, “good even, strange as that sounds.” She went on to describe how these last several years were more than she’d ever expected to share with her father. As she spoke, Sam noticed that Jack’s posture was mirroring hers exactly, both of them leaning forward on their knees looking into the isolation room where Jacob lay below. She noticed his thumbs fidgeting. Was he nervous? No, this was just Jack. He fidgeted. She absently noticed that her own thumbs were fidgeting too. Was _she_ nervous? Did he notice? Was he seeing right through her? Because for as much as it was true that part of her really was fine and simply grateful for the extra years they had been gifted, there was still a 14 year-old girl inside her railing at the unfairness, the wrongness, the utter impossibility of losing a parent.

She stopped talking and it only took a moment for Jack to reach his arm around her shoulders. “C’mere,” he said simply, pulling her toward him.

Sam breathed in deeply and began to feel everything fall away - Pete, Kerry, Daniel, the Tok’ra, Anubis, the Replicators, Dakara, the super weapon, her wedding, the Air Force - it all dropped off her shoulders and disappeared into the air around her as she gave into the solid presence of the man she loved beside her, as together they bore witness to the last moments of her father’s life. Without letting herself overthink it, she took Jack’s hand in her own and held on tight. She was nearly overcome by how right it felt. It was the first time in a long, confusing day that something had felt right.

“Thank you, sir,” she said.

“For what?” his voice was gentle and so, so close.

Grasping for the right words, she finally settled on echoing his own. “For being here for me.”

“Always,” he said. It sounded like a promise, and when she turned to look in his eyes, so, so close to hers, she could see that he meant it. This man who could be so flip and irreverent and sarcastic, he could also be so strikingly sincere. Turning back to the window, she rubbed her thumb over his hand, now pressed to her face, and felt herself breath. In the isolation room below, Jacob looked up at them and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

The next few minutes were a blur, as Sam felt herself rushing down to her father’s bedside, and he spoke his last words and breathed his last breath and was gone. She dropped her head and cried over him as the world around her slammed to a stop. Around her though, other people were talking, moving things, asking her questions she couldn’t interpret. Disposing of the remains of a deceased human host and Tok’ra symbiote was no small thing, certainly not something the SGC did every day, and of course the Tok’ra would be involved in whatever happened too. As the infirmary continued to buzz incomprehensibly around her, Sam felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Jack, undemanding, standing next to her. He’d said he was here for her, so she turned into him, and he dropped to the floor on one knee and held her while she cried.

After her tears subsided she pulled back and looked at him. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do right now,” she confessed in a whisper.

Jack lifted his hand to her face and her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, grateful for the compassion and care in his touch. “You do whatever you need to do,” he said.

Sam considered this. What did she need to do?

Jack’s hand dropped from her face and they both stood up. “You could stay here or you could go home for a while. You could come with me and iron out the details with the Tok’ra High Council,” he winced at this, eliciting a tiny smile from her, “or you could play with some of your doohickeys. Eat some jello. Take a nap…”

 _I just want to know you’re going to be happy_ , she heard her father say, his voice so earnest and his eyes so intent. Finally, she let these words start to sink in. _You can still have everything you want._ Finally, she let herself acknowledge what she wanted. Finally, in the strange and quiet space her father left behind, she let herself believe that maybe he was right. Maybe it was possible. And maybe it was worth a shot. Maybe she owed it to him. Or maybe she owed it to herself.

Sam took a deep breath and looked up at Jack. She knew exactly what she needed to do.

“Hit some golf balls into an active wormhole, ride your bike around the halls of the SGC, take up pottery…” he was still talking, rambling now, waving his right hand in the air with his left hand stuffed resolutely in his pocket.

“Actually, sir, with your permission, I’d like to leave the base, just for a little while. There’s something I have to do.”

Jack nodded. “Take all the time you need,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said. “Sir.”

He held her gaze. “I meant what I said. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. Anything.”

Sam wished to god she understood exactly what he meant by that. She could do without the guess work right now. But hadn’t she just decided that she owed it to herself to give it a shot?

“Actually, sir, there is one thing. I’d really like it if you could stop by my house later, after…” she glanced around uselessly. “Just whenever you have a chance. If you could. If you don’t mind.”

Jack was nodding, as if seeking to reassure her once she started trailing off. “I don’t mind,” he said. “I’d like that too.”

“Ok,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

Sam gazed once more at her father’s body, still and lifeless on the bed, so unlike the man she had come to know. It was too soon, now, to come to terms with this. But in the back of her mind, the part of her mind that really did feel nothing but thankful for these extra years they’d had together, she knew that someday she would be ok.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to add one more chapter after this one, and hope to post by the weekend. Thanks everyone for the kudos and feedback!

Daniel was back from the dead, again, wrapped in a flag and on his way to the infirmary (“Just to make sure it’s going to stick this time,” Jack had said) with Teal’c, Bra’tac and Sam in tow when she heard him call her name.

 

“Carter.”

 

“Yes sir?” She stopped dutifully in her tracks and turned to face him. He was still standing at the head of the briefing table, his hands on the back of his chair in front of him, and she was across the room, at the other end of the table. She realized she had unconsciously adopted the same stance, her hands resting on the tall back of the chair she now stood behind.

 

“Listen, I’m sorry you didn’t have much time to… to do your things,” he started ever so haltingly.

 

“It’s fine, sir,” she replied. “It’s understandable that my presence was required here.”

 

Sam had planned to take the whole day off, but she hadn’t been gone long when the call came through from the SGC. The Jaffa had been unable to hold Dakara, giving Anubis control of the super weapon. She’d hurried back right away.

 

“Yes,” Jack said, “well, we always do like to have you around when the threat of planetary annihilation is so particularly immanent.” He smirked mildly at her, and then his tone shifted to something softer, more careful. “I just wanted to make sure you know that if you need to take some more time… I mean, I know you’ll need more time than the time you had so far, but for now, as far as work is concerned -“

 

“If it’s all the same to you sir, I think I’d rather be here right now,” she cut in. “I had enough time to do the thing I really needed to do.”

 

“Oh,” he replied with a knowing nod, though in fact she suspected he had no idea at all. She could hardly believe herself what she’d spent her hour off base doing. Her whole relationship with Pete had felt like a long, slow slide from a casual blind date to a marriage proposal, and in the course of it, she’d almost forgotten she had it in her to act quickly and decisively when the situation demanded it. And it certainly did now. She’d known as soon as she found herself in Jack’s driveway, working up the nerve to talk to him, that regardless of how he reacted, she had to end it with Pete. Hell, she’d known as soon as Pete showed her the house. She’d probably known way before that.

 

So her father died, and the first thing Sam did was go break up with Pete. She knew how it might look, like her grief was distorting her decision-making abilities. But if anything, she felt like her grief, sudden and consuming as it was, gave her a clarity that had been lacking for far too long. She’d always hoped, always expected that given enough time and proximity, she’d grow to love Pete, to be in love with him, and to forget about being in love with anyone else. But the thought of Pete trying to comfort her now was more than she could bear.

 

Jack was still talking, waving his arm uselessly in the air. “I just know that there are a lot of phone calls to be made, people to be informed, arrangements to be… arranged… and if you need some more time right now, or later, or whenever, just… take it.” He nodded at himself once more, as if agreeing that it was a good idea. Taking time.

 

But time was the last thing Sam wanted right now. She had had time. She had had years. And in the span of a day, her father had gone from fine to dying to gone. It had been less than 24 hours since she first heard that her father was sick at all, and less than 24 hours since she last stood in front of Jack O’Neill and tried to tell him what she needed to say. She didn’t want any more time.

 

Sam took a deep breath. She knew she was capable of being brave and strong. She performed scientific feats and made military decisions that changed the world, saved the galaxy. In the field, she wasn’t afraid to trust her experience, instincts and judgement. Why did it have to be any different in her personal life? She was done being a coward. She was giving this a shot.

 

“It’s over with Pete,” she said abruptly, but unapologetically. Jack looked up at her, hands stilling on the back of his chair. Apparently this was not what he had been expecting her to say. He opened his mouth as if to speak but then closed it again, cocking his head slightly as if in question. “That’s what I was doing,” she continued, willing the words out before she lost the nerve, or the opportunity. “I broke up with him.”

 

Jack nodded, his eyes still fixed on her. She fought the urge to keep talking, to fill the small but ever growing empty space between them with equally empty words. His “always” to her in the observation room had seemed to carry with it a plea for her to hear all the things he wasn’t saying, couldn’t say, and she had done her best not to overthink it. But she was done with ambiguity, done with uncertainty. She could tell him plainly what she felt. And regardless of whether he did the same, let alone whether he felt the same, she could take comfort in knowing she’d at least done that much. She owed it to him. She owed it to herself.

 

Finally, Jack spoke. “It’s over with Kerry,” he said, mirroring her phrasing. “She broke up with me.”

 

“Oh,” Sam said, unsure how to take that last part.

 

He gave her a somewhat sheepish shrug and resumed his study of the chair in front of him, fingers tapping idly for a moment before he took a breath and looked up at her again. “Apparently me being in love with you was somewhat of a deal breaker for her.”

 

It took all of Sam’s strength and training as an Air Force officer not to fall over right there on the briefing room floor. It wasn’t a declaration, what he had just said, but it was more than she had expected. A lot more. She was sure Jack saw it in her face, the wave of emotion that nearly overtook her, but if he did, he didn’t show it. For once, he didn’t look the least big smug. He just kept talking.

 

“One could argue,” he continued, still looking straight into her eyes, “that it should have been a deal breaker for me too.”

 

It wasn’t an apology, but it was pretty damn close. It was more than she had expected and more than she thought she deserved. She had been engaged, after all.

 

“Yeah, well, I guess I know how that goes,” she managed, as her brain struggled to catch up with what he had just said. She stared at him in silence, seconds stretching into what felt like years, with words still unsaid hanging in the air around them, filling the briefing room. And Jack, to his credit, he didn’t look away, didn’t ask anything of her, he didn’t even flinch. Sam was vaguely aware of the security camera in the corner of the room, watching unhearingly as the General and the Colonel gazed at each other, clutching the backs of the chairs in front of them from across the long briefing room table.

 

Finally she cleared her throat and shifted her stance, releasing the chair. “Hey, so, I meant what I said earlier, you know, about you coming over later. I mean, if you have time sometime… later,” she stammered.

 

“Yeah,” he said immediately, his voice sounding lighter now. “I have time later. If you’re sure.”

 

“I’m sure,” she nodded emphatically. She was sure about a lot of things. “Just whenever is fine. I mean once you wrap things up here. I guess I have things to wrap up too.” You know, wrap things up from having nearly destroyed the base in a last ditch attempt to thwart a semi-ascended would-be god from wiping out all living things on the planet.

 

“Ok,” he said with a cautious smile. “Well then, I’ll see you later.”

 

“Well actually, sir, you said we were going to debrief in an hour with Daniel, and I was going to… to go to that.” She winced at her fumbling.

 

“Right,” Jack said. “Debrief. Anubis. So I guess I’ll see you sooner _and_ later.”

 

“And I was just heading down to the infirmary to check in about Daniel.” She motioned vaguely over her shoulder at the stairs the others had taken just a few minutes earlier.

 

“Oh,” Jack said. “Yeah, I was too.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“So I guess I’ll see you even sooner.”

 

“I guess so.”

 

God, this was almost embarrassing. She could take on the most terrifying enemies the galaxy had to offer, but when it came to this man, she was worse than a teenager, nervous and bumbling as she tried to string words together into a complete sentence. She ducked her chin and chuckled to herself, shaking her head gently with a small smile. When she looked up, Jack was smiling too. It felt good to smile with him. It felt like it had been a long time.

 

“We could even go together, sir.”

 

“That we could, Carter.”

 

He walked toward her slowly, and she watched his approach, cautious and steady. God, she loved him. And she had never felt more certain that finally, finally she was doing the right thing.

 

Jack stopped right in front of her, so close to her, so close.

 

“I love you too.” The words came out like a breath, soft and quiet, almost in a whisper. She could not believe she had actually said it, and she made no real effort to hide her surprise. “I never didn’t love you,” she kept on. “I tried to tell you and I couldn’t, and I thought maybe I never would.”

 

Sam saw Jack let out a breath and close his eyes for a moment, and she realized that he’d been nervous too, somehow still unsure of how she felt. He started to move his hand toward her but then stopped, dropping his arm limply at his side. They were, after all, still on base. Still officers. Still in the same chain of command. Still under the watchful eye of the security camera. “Well,” he said in a voice as soft and quiet as her own, “no need to dwell on all that.”

 

Sam wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry, she wanted to shout, she wanted to throw herself into his arms. Instead, she swallowed and nodded. “Yeah,” she said. Let’s not dwell.”

 

Jack held her gaze for a moment longer, so unguarded and so full of love. Then he canted his head toward the stairs. “Shall we?”

 

And if the security camera caught them standing a bit too close, and if it perhaps saw the back of his hand brush against hers as they turned to walk down the steps, well, for once she really didn’t care.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack was able to wrap up everything that needed wrapping up by just after three in the afternoon. Sam had left around noon, and he sincerely hoped she’d gone home and gone straight to bed. By the time Daniel had been cleared by medical, having determined that he was, in fact, himself, Sam was starting to look less like the leader of the SGC’s flagship off-world team and more like a zombie. More like someone who’d been up all night. More like someone who’d just lost her father.

 

And he was on his way to her house.

 

His heart beat a little faster than usual as he rode the elevator to the surface and found his truck in the parking lot. He was nervous, he realized. Part of him couldn’t help but wonder, was this really a good idea? Should she really have to deal with him right now too, on top of everything else? Climbing into the driver’s seat, he nearly rolled his eyes. Apparently years and years of telling himself he shouldn’t want to be with her and she couldn’t possibly really want to be with him were going to be hard to shake. She’d been clear enough this morning when she asked him, not once, but twice. She had asked and he had said yes. He had said always.

 

But he should call first, he realized as he started the car. And he should bring something. Food, he should bring some food. He should cook something. That’s what people did when someone died. Unbidden, his mind recalled the fridge full of meals people had brought for him and Sara after Charlie died, each lovingly labeled with reheating instructions. They were family meals - lasagna, casseroles, things like that - but he didn’t have a family anymore. The meals had gone uneaten, and eventually, Sara must have thrown them out.

 

Jack shook his head to chase the memory away. He needlessly adjusted his rearview mirror and forced his mind back to the question at hand: food. Not home cooked, that would be too much. But food. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Sam’s number.

 

She answered on the first ring. So, not sleeping then.

 

“Hey,” he said. “I’m just leaving the base. You still interested in company?” Jack did his best to sound casual. _He_ was the company she’d said she wanted. For all of his hesitation a just a minute earlier, he found himself sincerely hoping that she hadn’t changed her mind.

 

“Yeah,” came her reply. “Company would be good.”

 

“I was thinking about stopping to pick up some lunch, or dinner, or whatever meal we’re on now,” he said, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. “I didn’t get much of a chance to eat myself, and I thought maybe you hadn’t either.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, just a little stretch of the truth. He could always eat. And he figured she’d be more open to the idea of food if it wasn’t just about her.

 

“Oh,” she said, sounding somewhat confused, as if she’d totally forgotten about food and the human need to consume it in order to survive. She probably had. “Yeah, ok.”

 

“So… Pizza? Chinese? Sushi? Sandwiches? Anything sound good?” He winced. He was pretty sure nothing sounded good to her right now.

 

She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t care,” she finally said. “You pick something.”

 

“Ok,” he said. No sense in pushing it. He was capable of picking something. “See you in about a half hour?”

 

“Yeah,” she said. “Thanks. See you.”

 

He hung up and pulled out onto the highway, making his way to one of the nicer grocery stores not far from her house. In the deli section, he filled one large carton with some prepared chili and another with chicken and wild rice soup before hitting the salad bar to put together a side salad. He grabbed a bag with a half a dozen dinner rolls out of the bakery section. In front of the liquor section, he paused. Showing up on Sam’s doorstep with alcohol on the very same day he told her he loved her seemed more than a little presumptuous. But it also seemed potentially quite rude _not_ to bring alcohol after the day she’d had. After a moment’s consideration, he grabbed a six-pack of Coors Lite and threw it in the cart. It was beer if she wanted it, and certainly no one would read anything into a six pack of Coors Lite, right? As he waited in line to check out, he added a bag of M &Ms to his stash. Chocolate was at least as good an idea as the beer.

 

Before he knew it, he was standing on her doorstep, grocery bag in hand, feeling a weird sort of adrenaline coursing through him. He had never been so excited to eat soup with someone. But he had never felt so brokenhearted for the someone in question. He was so eager to do something for her, do anything for her, to be the one who did things for her, but he was all too aware of how powerless he had been to prevent this horrible thing from happening in the first place, and how impossible it would be to make her pain go away now.

 

He must have rung the bell because there she was, in her sweat pants and USAF t-shirt, opening the door for him. He stepped forward and stood in her entryway, still clutching the grocery bag.

 

“I’m here,” he announced needlessly.

 

She nodded once. “Thank you for coming.” She closed the door behind him and stood next to him, close, like they’d been in the infirmary when her father died, and like in the briefing room after she’d told him about Pete. He liked being this close to her.

 

He felt an overpowering need to say something, to acknowledge, what, exactly? That he knew how crushing this grief could be? That she didn’t have to pretend she was ok? That he liked standing close to her? That he hoped she was in the mood for soup? “Look, Sam -“ he started, not sure at all how he planned to finish.

 

“Jack,” she cut in, and his heart skipped a beat at the sound of his first name on her lips. “Can we…” she trailed off, sighed, and collected herself again. Apparently he wasn’t the only one struggling to come up with words.

 

She started over. “I don’t want to play games right now.” It was blunt, but not accusatory, just direct, forthright. “I don’t want to guess or wonder…” she trailed off again, waving her arm around at all the potentially mysterious things she might otherwise be forced to guess at. “Not right now. I’m too tired. And too much has happened today.”

 

That was the understatement of the century. Jack nodded, supportively, anxiously. She did look so tired. She had held herself together while on base, she had soldiered through everything, but now it seemed to be all catching up with her.

 

She continued. “So let’s just say the things we mean to say, and not say the things we’re only saying because we think they’re the things we’re supposed to be saying.” She looked at him, her tired eyes pleading with him to understand.

 

He was still nodding. He did understand. “Ok,” he said, and then hesitated a moment before adding, “you know, I’m not much of a saying things guy.”

 

She sighed. “I know,” she said. “I just mean -“

 

But then she stopped talking, because Jack wasn’t a saying things guy, but he was a doing things guy, and in this moment, he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He dropped the grocery bag on the floor and wrapped both of his arms around her shoulders, gathering her up in a huge bear hug. As he held her he rocked, slowly, side to side, and then he kissed the side of her head. “I’m so sorry about your dad, Sam,” he whispered. He felt her arms snake around his chest and she started to cry. He rocked her some more, gently smoothing his hand over her hair as she clung to him, her tears wetting his jacket. He would hold her as long as she let him, as long as she needed.

 

********

 

Later, they would sit together on her couch and eat the meal he’d brought. She would be surprised at her own appetite, and he would be pleased that she liked his offering. He would volunteer to help make phone calls to inform extended family and friends about the funeral arrangements, and she would take him up on it.

 

Later still, they would turn on the tv and break into the beer and M&Ms. She would nod off with her head on his shoulder ten minutes into Terminator 2, and he would let her sleep, marveling at the feeling, and overwhelmed that she trusted him enough to finally let herself rest.

 

Even later, long after the credits had rolled, she would stir awake and he would say goodbye, kissing her briefly on the cheek like it was the most natural thing to do, though he’d never done it before. He would walk out her door and she would watch him go, knowing that she would see him again soon, knowing that her father had been right after all, and knowing with her whole heart that for everything that had ended that day, something also began.


End file.
